


Getting What He Wants

by Michelle221b



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Challenge Response, Domesticity, Kinda?, M/M, Male Slash, Out of Character, Phone Sex, pre-slash Johnlock if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-06
Updated: 2012-10-06
Packaged: 2017-11-15 18:38:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/530435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Michelle221b/pseuds/Michelle221b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg Lestrade separates from his wife and ends up shacking up with our favorite minor government employee.  (I totally suck at writing summaries).  Written for the Mystrade September 2012 Domesticity! Challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Getting What He Wants

**Author's Note:**

> Author Notes/Warnings: 1. I’m very very certain that there are Americanisms all over this story. Sorry, I don’t have a britpicker or really a beta right now. So please forgive any errors. I’ve tried to edit this but working from an Ipad can be a pain in the butt. If you find something yicky please let me know so that I can fix it. 2. I tried really hard to make this story plausible, but OOC Mycroft kept poking his head in. So yeah there is some definite out of character stuff going on. 
> 
> Disclaimer: Sherlock & Pals, belong to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, BBC and (all its legal associates and affiliates), Moffat & Gatiss, etc etc. For fun fan use only. 
> 
> * Some editing occurred after submitting for the challenge. I hope this is a more cleaned up version... what can I say? I'm not good with deadlines and I really need a beta.

Greg frowned as he noticed the car parked near his house that he knew shouldn’t be there. It had a parking decal that was nearly identical to his wife's. Sheila never entertained her coworkers so he knew right away something was up. Sheila always said he had a suspicious mind and accused him of seeing things that weren't there. He always disagreed; they didn't make him a D.I. on his looks he would say. He walked into the house and encountered soft romantic music, jazz to be more precise. Sheila never listened to jazz, at least not around him. He walked through the door expecting that he wouldn't like what he was going to see. He wasn’t disappointed. 

Greg wished he were surprised to find his wife riding the P.E. teacher she had mentioned on more than one occasion on their sitting room couch. Most men would have. No one expects the person that they married to dishonor him or her in such a blatant way. But he didn't NOT expect it, and if he was honest with himself he knew it was a matter of time before he had this kind of evidence. He watched impassively as she bounced with more vigor and excitement than she ever did with him. When was the last time they had sex anyway? Part of him wondered why he wasn’t vibrating with rage. Isn’t that what happens normally? A bloke walks in on his girl fucking another guy and bam, a gunshot or a stabbing or he chokes the son of a bitch or something. He was a homicide detective. He had seen crimes of passion over and over again. But he didn't feel murderous vengeful jealous rage. No. He was just resigned. Sherlock had warned him and of course there were the clues he saw for himself, but he couldn't excuse this away. It just wasn't possible. He was tired of living a lie anyway.

He cleared his voice as loudly as he could and began to clap. "Oi! Stellar performance Sheila. Having fun are we?"

Sheila's mouth opened and clenched her nails into the P.E. teacher’s back who turned his head in shock. His eyes got wide before they went straight to Greg’s gun holster. "Whoa. Don't lose it, okay?"

Greg rubbed his chin before offering a dark retort of, "Looks like I already have."

Sheila tried to remove herself from her lover with some grace as he gallantly offered a throw cover from the couch so that she could cover herself. "Greg..."

"Don't... Just don't. I hope I didn't ruin your evening." He said bitterly.

"Greg, I just ..."

He turned so quickly he almost made his head spin. He stormed over to her and put a finger in her face. "I don't want to hear it. You fucking liar!" He gave her one more parting look that could cut glass before quickly retreating and slamming the door. He was several feet before he realized he had gotten angry. So angry in fact that he had left his car. He was pondering the fact that he hadn't really reacted at all to seeing her infidelity in plain view but practically imploded when she spoke to him. He had turned on his heel and was approaching his car when a sleek black car slid into the lane. Greg eyed it and the driver who had just got out and opened the door with suspicion. His phone rang and he looked down at it to read the caller i.d. He sighed when he picked it up.

"I'm not in the mood." He growled.

"It’s not about my brother. Get in the car." Mycroft’s ridiculously calm and deep voice said. 

"I have my own thanks." Greg replied a bit too snappish.

"Yes, but you are in no shape to drive. Get in the car Gregory. Please. I wish to speak to you."

That was so like Mycroft. He simply made a demand and expected others to comply. It was annoying but Greg couldn’t help but acknowledge that at times it had to be useful. It didn’t stop him from wanting to be defiant.

"What if I'm not in the mood for talking?"

"I have an array of liquor in my bar. I'm sure something will suit your palate."

Greg rolled his eyes and then nodded at the driver as he got in the rear passenger seat. “I know you are a man of exquisite taste. I hope you wont disappoint.”

“That’s hardly likely.”

Greg couldn’t help it. He smiled. It was the first real smile he had all day and it was all because of Mycroft Holmes. How strange was that?

“Smug bastard.” He said as the car took off.

“Often smug yes, bastard no.”

“I didn’t mean the literal definition.” Greg quipped.

“Ahh.”

Greg noticed that he wasn't headed to Mycroft’s club where they sometimes met.* He opened his mouth to ask the driver but his experience with Mycroft’s staff was that they were pretty tight lipped. He wouldn't be surprised if they were all mutes, with special op training. 

The car approached Pall Mall and stopped in front of a nice but modest flat. He quirked an eyebrow and got out the car just as Mycroft appeared in the doorway. Greg approached the slightly taller man; Mycroft opened the door wider to allow the detective entry.

The detective walked through the entryway and took note of the elegant but unassuming interior design. "Well this is different." 

"May I take your coat?” Mycroft asked as he held out his hand.

Greg removed his trench coat and handed it to Mycroft who hung it on the nearby coat rack. He couldn't help but notice the brolly stand that held a fair amount of expensive umbrellas.

Greg was escorted to the sitting room. "Nice place. A little understated though. I expected something ... I don't know..." 

"Pretentious?" Mycroft offered as a suggestion.

Greg let out a hearty laugh. "Grand. I was expecting a bigger version of your room at the club. Speaking of the club, why didn't we meet there?"

"It wasn't practical, since I was already home. What would you like?" Mycroft asked as he approached the bar.

Greg sat on the plush couch. "I'll have what you are having."

"You don't like brandy, how about a gin … no, I think scotch better suits your mood?"

Greg leaned back and replied, "Scotch would be great. Should I dare to ask how you know that I don't like brandy? Or how you arranged to have that car approach me as I was leaving my house? Sherlock swears that you have access to CCTV.”

Mycroft poured their drinks and handed Greg his drink beds taking a seat across from him. He crossed his leg casually and took a sip before answering, "You will find that I am very interested in every aspect of the lives of those people I care about."

Greg coughed a bit after swallowing his drink. "You care about me?"

Mycroft smiled," Come now, Gregory. You must realize by now that I consider you a friend."

Greg couldn't help but be pleased by Mycroft’s declaration. "I guess."

"And as a friend, I must offer my condolences in regards to Sheila. I know it is cliché to say this but she truly doesn’t deserve you."

"Thanks, although I don't know about who deserved whom. I know I’m not always the ideal husband."

"I find that hard to believe."

Greg opened his mouth to disagree, but saw a glint in the senior Holmes's eye that said his opinion would not be swayed. 

"What are your plans?" 

Greg shrugged. "I'm not sure. I might bunker down at the office. Then I’ll file the papers. "

“You don’t wish to reconcile?”

“We’ve tried that. No; we are done. She’s obviously not happy.”

“In that case I would like to extend an invitation for you to stay here.” 

“I couldn’t.”

Mycroft shook his head. "Don't be absurd. I insist."

Greg found himself sputtering again, "I wouldn't want to impose." Actually I couldn’t handle seeing you in just your dressing gown, Greg thought to himself. Greg wasn't sure if he could trust himself around such an attractive man. It had been a while since he messed around with a bloke, but he was pretty sure he wouldn't mind relearning with this man.

Mycroft could read Greg’s thoughts easily and wasn’t disappointed by his companion’s reaction, but his friend’s reluctance was going to be a challenge. 

"You could never be an imposition." Mycroft said earnestly.

"Mycroft, I really appreciate this. The drink, the place to stay but it's unnecessary. I pretty much live at the yard anyway according to Sheila. It will be fine. "Greg said as he got up. "I think I'm gonna grab a cab and head in now."

"No my driver will take you." Mycroft said as he got up from his seat. "I wish you would reconsider, there is plenty of room."

Greg offered his hand, "Thanks, again, I really do feel better now." Mycroft accepted the detective’s hand and shook it. He held it longer than what could really be considered acceptable among “just friends." He met Greg's eyes and they stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. A lovely eternity. Mycroft slowly curled his hand around Greg's, his thumb caressed Greg's knuckles before they shook hands. Then they slowly walked to the door and Mycroft opened it.

"Good night, Myc." Greg said almost reluctantly.

"Good night, Gregory.". Mycroft said plotting his next steps in seduction as he watched Greg jog down the stairs to his waiting car.

~*~

A few days later, Greg returned from the gym when he nearly tossed him gym bag on the lap of Mycroft Holmes.

"Jesus...Myc! You nearly scared me out my skin." he exclaimed as he tossed his gym bag in the corner instead of the couch who held his elegantly and ridiculously poised friend. Seriously how did someone look so damn put together so early in the morning, Mycroft eyes sparkled and he smiled a smile that implied he heard the thought and straightened his already straight waist coat.

"That wasn't my intention."

"Well what is your intention?" Greg asked as he worked his way to his desk. 

Mycroft surveyed the room and then met the detective’s inquisitive stare. "You really are living here? This has to be against protocol. "

"Yeah, like so many other things that I do. I’m not known to be a by the book kinda guy as you know."

Mycroft licked his lips, "Yes, I imagine you can be a very naughty boy."

Greg gulped. "Mr. Holmes are you flirting with me at ..." Greg looked at his watch, "7:40 in the morning, I haven't even had my morning coffee yet."

"Then let me buy you one."

Greg looked down at his desk and the incomplete paper work and shrugged. "Sure. You know you didn't even flinch at the flirting comment." He said as he moved towards Mycroft.

"There is no point in denying the truth is there?" Mycroft stood up and watched Greg approach him.

Greg just shook his head, "Is being completely incorrigible an inherited trait?". He asked as he strolled out of his office as Mycroft followed. 

"Quite possibly.” He said with the nonchalant attitude that screamed "Holmes"! Greg looked back and snorted at the government official. 

They arrived at their usual cafe and Mycroft ordered the standard coffees. 

"So, I know this isn't about Sherlock. So what's up Mycroft?"

"I wish to persuade you to reconsider my offer."

Greg rolled the paper coffee cup in his hand, "I don't know if it's a good idea. People may talk."

"The met's self proclaimed resident bad boy cares if people talk?"

"Okay, you got me there. Maybe it's just ... I'm going to be honest, before I got married, I ...well, let's just say I appreciated what both genders had to offer and there is the fact that you are an attractive man. "

"You think that I will take advantage of your vulnerable state and seduce you."

"If we were living together, I'd be hoping for it."

Mycroft looked up suddenly and saw the lust in Greg’s eyes, "You are serious."

"I'm very serious. Just as serious as your supposed casual flirting is."

"Gregory...I…"

The detective put his hand up and interrupted him, "I wish you would call me Greg..."

"Greg doesn’t suit a man as impressive as you are."

"You are being charming again."

"And you are being too modest." Mycroft replied matter-of-factly before taking a final sip of his coffee.

"I don't know why you order it, if you don't like it.". Greg grumbled.

Mycroft shrugged, "I enjoy the company though. So my offer ..."

"I suppose it is better than sleeping on that horrid couch."

"And my guest room’s ensuite shower is much better than the one at the gym I imagine."*

"Okay, I guess I will go to the house and get some things."

Mycroft had the decency to look abashed as he said, "That won't be necessary. I had some of your things removed."

Greg sighed like a man who was resigned to his fate, "You would wouldn't you?"

"I knew it would be uncomfortable for you to have to go there now. It’s just the essentials, I'm sure there are some personal items you would want to retrieve yourself."

"Fine." Greg huffed.

Mycroft smiled and handed Greg a key on heavy silver key chain that had his initials engraved on it. 

"Presumptuous." Greg said as he took note of Mycroft’s discreet look at his watch. He wasn’t running late yet, but if they linger too long he will be. 

"No just hopeful,” was Myrcroft’s response. Greg rolled his eyes.

~*~

After a horrible afternoon of completing previously dismissed paperwork and arresting a bloke for a domestic homicide, he was exhausted. Sherlock had been pestering him all day with texts, which he ignored. It wasn’t his fault that there weren’t any interesting cases to appease the madman. The last text was especially annoying.

Don’t trip on the second floor runner. It tends to bunch. –SH

Did Mycroft tell you? – GL

No, but it was just a matter of time. You should be aware that he almost always gets what he wants. –SH

What does that supposed to mean?- GL

You know exactly what I mean. - SH

~*~

Evening came before he knew it and Greg was looking at the evidence laid in front of him with a frown. He really didn't want to ask Sherlock to look at this again. The man had given him a withering glare when he had came to the crime scene. "Dull. Obvious." was his statement and he had walked away. Greg and his team still hadn't made head or tails of the case. The murder weapon had prints but they matched the victim’s husband who was already in prison for killing their neighbor over an alleged affair with the current victim. The neighbor’s wife had been a prime suspect but she had an alibi. This case was a monster and he knew he was going to have to beg Sherlock to reconsider and help him. The bastard probably solved it the minute he walked on the scene. He sighed as he felt his phone buzz. Speaking of the devil.

My brother is usually home by seven. -SH

So? -GL

If you are going to be late, call him. -SH

Why? -GL

Don't be an idiot. It's your first night as housemates. He'll want to celebrate. -SH

We aren't housemates. He's just letting me crash. -GL

Whatever. BTW the alibi is lying and your missing piece is in the neighbors gardening shed. Appropriate since the murder weapon was a gardening knife, not the pocketknife left @scene. -SH

Now you don't have an excuse to be late. Get the warrant. Send Donovan. - SH

Greg stared at his phone and shook his head. H. "Donovan!"

~*~

He arrived at Mycroft’s penthouse at 7:30. He hadn’t called. He vaguely wondered if he was testing Mycroft’s patience, which really didn’t make any sense because Mycroft hadn’t made plans for them; so why should he be worried that he arrived later than what Sherlock suggested? Greg used the key that Mycroft had given him earlier that day and opened the door to the house. He hung his coat next to Mycroft’s and walked until he found the study and Mycroft. He wasn’t wearing his suit jacket or waistcoat. It was the first time Greg has seen the man look even remotely casual. He was lounging on his chair reading the evening issue of the newspaper. Near him on the end table was a bucket with a bottle of champagne chilling. Mycroft looked up from the paper and smiled and then furrowed his eyebrow a little after he took a look at Greg. 

"Bad day?". He asked as he put away the paper.

"Well it was until your brother texted me."

"Solved it did he?" Mycroft asked as he stood up and reached for the bottle. 

"Because he said I needed to get home on time."

"Did he?"

"Yup. Said you'd want to celebrate."

Mycroft popped open the bottle of Champagne. "He does know me very well, but I don’t care about the time."

Mycroft poured their glasses of champagne. "Have you had dinner?"

Greg nodded, "I got a sandwich from the vending machine."

Mycroft grimaced. "Regrettable. We could have dined together." He said as he handed Greg the glass.

"I was working a case, I didn't want to pull away."

"Quite understandable." Mycroft said before taking a sip.

Greg couldn't help but notice the contrast between Mycroft and Sheila. Sheila would have screamed her head off about him being late and not being considerate.

"We didn't toast." He said after following his hosts lead.

Mycroft shrugged. "It is implied. Would you like to go through the formality?"

Greg snorted and took his seat and sipped his champagne. "This is nice."

Mycroft nodded. "I like nice things."

"I'm more of a beer drinker, usually."

"Yes, I know. There is some in the pantry. We can fetch it if you prefer."

"No, this is fine."

They sat in companionable silence for a while. "So how was your day?"

Mycroft shifted in his seat. "Typical."

"Can’t really tell me, huh. That's okay. How about from now on, I just ask how do you feel about how your day went?"

"In that case, frustrated, but it will pass. These things always do. "

"Hmm. So what do you do in your free time? Funny, in all of this time that we have known each other I don't think we have ever socialized."

He gestured towards the neat stack of reports and the laptop that was on a nearby desk. "Workaholic, I'm afraid."

"Yeah, me too. Funny, Sherlock always implies you are lazy."

"I'm not as energetic as he is, that's all. I prefer a more sedentary pursuit of knowledge whereas my brother prefers a more hands on approach. "

"That’s one way to put it. I think he's just manic. Well I don't want to keep you from your work..."

"What do you like to do during your leisure time?" He asks as he leaned over to pour Greg another glass.

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" Greg replied instead of answering the question.

Mycroft shook his head no as he chuckled, "I know you can hold your drink, detective. But if I were to get you inebriated, whatever do you think I would do with you?" Mycroft asked with a sultry yet poignant stare.

"See this is the reason I thought this would be a bad idea." Greg said before sipping the bubbly. "I've always been susceptible to charming men."

"Is that your hobby?"

"No, but I think if I continue to live here, I might be a negative influence on you. You may change your mind about being a workaholic for example."

"And you think my time could be better spent?" Mycroft asked with a devilish sparkle to his eyes.

"I don't think. I know so." Greg smirked.

Mycroft drained his glass and then said. "Prove it."

The smirk gone Greg stalked over towards Mycroft and took the glass away from him and set it aside. He bent down and cupped Mycroft’s face with his hands before he placed a too soft kiss to Mycroft’s mouth. The slightly younger man opened his mouth in welcome and the kiss became more passionate.

Greg knew he was getting lost in the overwhelming passion he was feeling, it had been more than he had ever felt, with anyone,even his wife, and this was just a kiss. He pulled away reluctantly and put his forehead down upon Mycroft’s. His eyes were closed and he was trying to catch his breath. Mycroft put his hands on Greg's forearms,” Don’t you dare regret that."

Greg opened his eyes. "I shouldn't. I'm still married."

Mycroft nodded and released his grip. "Then we won't."

Greg stepped back and eyed Mycroft warily. He was becoming cold and ...Holmes-ian

"Come on Mycroft. It's not like that. I'm going to divorce her and then we can..."

"What? Have a dalliance? I don't want to be your rebound, Gregory."

"No. Idiot. If we are going to date, I want to do it properly. I want a clean slate. Can you wait for me?"

Mycroft took a deep breath and exhales it slowly before saying, "I've waited this long."

"Thank you, Myc...". He took Mycroft’s hand and kissed the top of it.

Mycroft tried hard not to blush as he regained his composure he muttered, "It’s getting late. Do you need me to show you to the guest bedroom?"

"I think I can find it on my own." He slowly pulled away and walked out of the study.

Mycroft watched Greg leave the room. He clenched his fists and licked his lips. Patience, he told himself. You have to be patient. It will be worth it in the end.

~*~

Greg woke up to the smell of gourmet coffee. He rubbed his eyes and saw Mycroft in his standard full three piece sitting on the edge of his bed with a steaming mug. 

"You are going to be late, I was hoping this might jump start you."

He stretched and reached out for the mug. His hand brushed Mycroft’s and there was an audible intake of air that came from the government employee. 

"Umm, thanks." He took a sip and his eyes widened as he sat up, "This is quite good."

"As I said, I enjoy nice things.". Mycroft said he gave Greg an appreciative look.

"It’s too early to be so flirtatious." Greg halfheartedly complained.

"I disagree, but I didn't come here to be distracted by you and your handsome face. I just wanted to let you know that I may be home late."

"Okay."Greg said after he took another sip of the coffee. Mycroft got up from his seat and looked back at Greg. He looked like he was trying to make a decision and then he bent down and kissed Greg's cheek. "Have a good day, Gregory."

Greg blushed as he put the coffee down and put a hand on his cheek. His heart did a small flip and he chuckled at himself. He hadn't felt this way since he was a teenager and although it was absolutely absurd, he liked the feeling. He felt at last he was finally living again. 

Greg walked into his office that morning and found a divorce barrister's card. He flipped it over and saw Mycroft’s neat print. 'I've been informed he is the best.' The detective shook his head. Mycroft was definitely a man who went after what he wanted. 

He picked up the phone and dialed the number.

~*~

Mycroft found himself daydreaming as he sat in his office, and shook his head. He looked down at his agenda and frowned. It was going to be a long enough day, he didn't need to allow himself to become distracted by thoughts of a certain detective inspectors and their beguiling dark eyes. 

He clicked the icon on his computer and began to look over the video of the international conference he shouldn't technically have, being that it was supposedly never happened. He sighed as he sipped his tea and watched a terrible approximation of democracy at work. A quarter of the way in, he knew he was going to have to make time in his agenda to make some calls. Yes it was indeed going to be a long day.

~*~

It was nearly one in the morning by the time Greg finished up at the Met. Mycroft had said he'd be home late, but Greg knew that his housemate must had gotten home before he had so he entered the house as quietly as he could.

Greg dropped his keys, wallet and badge on the end table near the couch that held a sleeping Mycroft Holmes. His hand was resting on his abdomen and he had apparently fallen asleep reading as there was a newspaper that had fallen to the floor. Greg went to the nearby chair and pulled the throw off the back of it and gently laid it across Mycroft who then murmured, "Gregory" and then released a soft snore. Greg smiled and softly kissed Mycroft’s forehead.

Earlier than what Greg would have liked he woke up again to the smell of coffee. "Do you want to have dinner tonight? That is if our schedules allow of course"

Greg took the coffee and nodded, "Yes. I'll text if something pops up at work."

"Excellent. Michelangelo’s at 7?"

"Sure." Greg smiled and watched as Mycroft began to move from his seat on the bed. Greg put a hand on his arm to halt him.

"Hey, where’s my morning kiss?"

Mycroft quirked an eyebrow, "I wasn't sure if you thought I was being too forward."

Greg laughed, "Mycroft, you have just asked me to dinner. You have been flirting with me since the first day we met and you’ve paid for the best divorce barrister in London.... and no I don't believe he decided to take my case on pro bono. I’m not stupid. So no I don't think it's too forward at this point. Now kiss me so I can start my day off right."

Mycroft leaned in and pressed his lips softy onto Greg’s who promptly coaxed Mycroft’s mouth open and slid his tongue expertly against Mycroft’s who moaned into this kiss. Greg didn’t really know what came over him, he had promised himself he would go slowly but just being around this man made him want to be completely reckless.

“Gregory, I can’t be late … the Israeli diplomat will be horribly offended.” Mycroft said with a look that could only represent regret.

“Okay. Okay. Go save the world or whatever it is that you do.”

Mycroft smiled and got up and straightened his tie. “I’ll be looking forward to seeing you all day I’m sure.”

~*~

Greg walked into his office with a bit of a skip to his step. This of course wasn’t missed by anyone who worked closely with him. After a few hours of work, he smiled when he looked up and saw one of Mycroft's assistants being escorted by Sally. She handed him a coffee and a bag that held a honeyed croissant with almonds.

“Mr. Holmes sends his regards,” said the beautiful assistant. 

Sally stepped aside so that the young woman could make her exit. 

Sally crossed her arms across her chest, “Mr. Holmes? Why would the freak’s brother send you a coffee and his regards?”

Greg took a slow sip and closed his eyes. The caffeine jolt was just what he needed and since he knew Mycroft would be too busy to meet up at the café, as they sometimes did, he really appreciated the gesture.

“Go away, Donovan. This is gourmet coffee, I would like to enjoy it without looking at your sour judgmental face.”

When Sally left. He received a text from his … housemate? Friend? Potential boyfriend? 

Had coffee during a break. I much would have preferred meeting you. The taste reminded me of our morning kiss. 7 can’t get here soon enough. Thinking of you. – MH

~*~

Greg had never been this nervous about a date before he realized as he waited for Mycroft to arrive. There really was no reason to be anxious since there was no doubt that Mycroft was interested. They had been friends for a few years now but now that he knew that they could be more, he couldn’t think of anything else.

Greg rubbed his slightly damp hands on his thighs. He looked down at his watch; it had been an anniversary gift from Sheila several years back. He frowned when he looked down at it, maybe he shouldn't wear it anymore. He had already stopped wearing his wedding ring. It was sitting in sock drawer in Mycroft’s guest room. He wondered if Mycroft read anything into the fact that he still wore the watch or gotten rid of the ring. He was worrying at the wristband when his potential lover slid into the chair in front of him. 

"It’s just a watch..." said the smooth cultured voice of his date.

"Huh? Oh ...hi..." Greg said as he looked up and smiled.

"I said it’s just a watch. You only wear it out of habit. It was a gift, but you don't have positive sentimental feelings about it or the relationship it symbolizes. I'm not threatened by it or by Sheila. Although maybe I should get you a new one, your birthday is coming up."

Greg searched Mycroft’s eyes and saw nothing but confidence and reassurance.  
"Not the jealous type?"

"Actually I am. However your wife is hardly competition, you are divorcing her." Mycroft said offhandedly as he eyed the wine list. "Would you prefer red or white?"

Greg propped his chin on his hand and tilted his head and looked at the unflappable man in front of him. "You are astounding."

Mycroft put down the wine selection and gave his companion a quizzical smile, "Oh?"

"You are just so ... Cool I guess."

Mycroft laughed, "Really? I think that would be the first time anyone has called me that."

"I don’t mean like James Dean cool, I mean ...you’re calm, confident, smooth and cool as glass."

Mycroft’s mouth turned up a bit in an almost smirk. "Amongst a certain populace I'm called the Iceman, but trust that inside beats a warm human heart."

Greg reached out and touched Mycroft’s hand. "I didn't mean you were unfeeling. It's just I'm used to ... I don't know, Sheila is always accusing me of cheating and she is so short tempered."

"That’s not surprising. Cheaters often try to excuse their own behavior by projecting their own bad behavior onto their partners." Mycroft said as he picked up the menu.

Greg picked up his own menu, but he already knew what he wanted. He still asked if Mycroft had a suggestion. "You will order the chicken parmesan, even if I recommend the veal."

Greg chuckled. "And you will order the veal just to prove a point but you'll still allow me a taste, won't you?" Greg said and then blushed when he realized what he said could be considered innuendo. Damn how did this man keep making him blush like some silly school girl? It was just ridiculous.

Mycroft licked his lips and his light eyes became a bit darker. "Certainly. How could I resist?"

The waiter came over and took their orders, and soon the bottle of red Mycroft ordered was poured. 

"Thanks for sending the coffee today, I was starting to drag a bit."

"How was your day?" Mycroft asked before sipping his wine.

"Sherlock free; which meant pretty boring." Greg looked skeptically at the wine, but took a sip anyway and smiled. Mycroft seemed to already know what he would prefer.

"Should I express sympathy or congratulations?"

Greg shrugged, I’m not sure but on the bright side I did get some paperwork done. Oh and apparently we've stirred up the rumor mill."

"Oh?"

"Donovan asked why you sent me coffee. I blew her off, so I'm sure the office is full of speculation." Greg said as he nodded thanks to the waiter who brought their salads.

"Will it bother you?"

"Nah, why would it?”

"You did seem concerned about a clean break before ..."

"I did, but I'm not sure if I can resist you. I haven't been this happy in such a long time. "

"I'm glad."

"You want to kiss me right now don't you?"

"You have no idea and typically public displays are ..."

"Not a good idea, considering your position."

"I'm not a politician. "

"Yeah..yeah, I know it’s just a 'minor government position' but if there were interested parties would they be inclined to use me or our relationship against you?"

Mycroft met Greg's nervous stare and reached over to squeeze the detective inspector’s hand. "I would never allow anyone to hurt you."

"So what level of security detail do you have on me?"

Mycroft raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips. Greg gave him a snort, "Look I don't mind. It's probably a good thing considering my own occupation and that I willing keep company with your brother."

Greg smiled widely and Mycroft's pinched expression. Mycroft's face softened and he put their joined hands up to his lips and kissed the back of Gregs hand. "I usually don't like public displays but with you, it doesn't seem to matter. For once I could care less about appearances."

"Wow." Greg murmured. 

"Indeed."

After dinner, Greg and Mycroft approached Greg's car. "So this is awkward."

"How so?”

"Well usually at this point in a date I would ask if you wanted to come over to mine for a night cap, but I don't have a place. As a matter of fact I'm crashing at a friend’s place."

Mycroft twirled his umbrella a bit then shrugged, "Which is quite convenient for me, Gregory, you are aware that I'm just as capable of propositioning as you are. Let's have a drink when we get to the house and take it from there."

"How is it that when you say it, you don't sound like a berk."

"Natural charm I suppose." Mycroft said as he looked pointedly at the car door. Greg opened it and let his date slide in. 

When he slid in the driver’s seat he looked over at Mycroft and grinned. "Never thought I’d see you in anything but a government issued car with a driver."

"I don’t utilize the office car when I go out on dates."

"Dates? Are you a player, Mycroft?"

"Not since I've met you."

"Oh my god... You are. You're totally a player. With your quick comebacks, fancy dinners and excellent taste in wine."

"I’m serious. I've been hopelessly pining for you since Sherlock steamrolled into your life."

"You haven't dated anyone since we've met?"

"They all pale in comparison, I thought it was useless to waste my time with inferior companions."

"Wow."

"I seem to often illicit that response from you. I hope they are good wows."

"Oh yeah, they are good. Definitely good. I'm just baffled that someone as ... I don't know how someone as alluring as you can be drawn to someone like me"

Mycroft frowned slightly and turned towards Greg. "Someone like you? What does that mean?"

Greg gave a one shoulder shrug as he made a turn. He drove for a bit before he responded, "You know normal. Standard bloke who drinks beer and likes sports."

"I believe you are more than capable of learning to appreciate the finer things as well. You do realize you fail to mention attractive, intelligent, principled, excellent kisser.... The list is quite extensive Gregory"

Greg blushed again. Jesus. "I really wish I weren’t married. Right now, I'd give anything to just go to your place and make love to you. I don't even know if we'd make it past the hall."

"That doesn't sound like making love; it sounds like you want to fuck me."

Greg gripped the steering wheel and groaned. Hearing the word fuck had never sounded so sexy to him. That word coming out of those lips, yeah that was damn right sinful.

"Yeah ... Oh God you don't know how much I want that.". Greg said as he gave Mycroft a sideways leer while he kept his eyes on the road. 

"And yet you resist. As I said you are principled, disciplined, and faithful. Very much my kind of man."

"You are a shameless flirt."

"I'm simply singing your praises."

"You are testing me...which is fine by the way. I know it will all be worth it in the end.". Greg pulled up to Mycroft’s penthouses garage, parked and opened Mycroft’s door. 

Mycroft closed the car door behind him and touched Greg's cheek. "You think so?"

"I know so." Greg said before gently grabbing Mycroft’s wrist and kissing the taller mans fingers.

"We are in the parking garage."

"Hmm mm." Greg murmured as he kissed Mycroft’s wrist. "Do you really care?"

"Surprisingly no. The second your divorce finalizes, I'm going to want you everywhere."

"Even parking garages?" Greg asked as he finished kissing Mycroft’s wrist but then slid his hand down to hold Mycroft’s hand. They strolled to the elevator. 

"Especially parking garages... Maybe even shut down warehouses. I may know of one that allows privacy."

"Privacy in public … kinky."

Mycroft snorted. "I suppose it could be seen that way.” He swiped his key card and the letter p on the elevator panel lit up.

Greg leaned against the cushioned wall of the elevator. "You know I'm going to be plagued with fantasies now. Trysts in my squad car, maybe a park, or one of your "interview sites"

"How do you know about ... Oh never mind."

"John still complains you know... Says it’s crazy that you insist on kidnapping him when you could just call. Should I be jealous?"

Mycroft pulled out his key and unlocked the door. "Don’t be ridiculous, didn’t I just say everyone else has paled in comparison to you... And Dr. Watson is very much claimed, even if he keeps insisting on denying it and wasting his time with women he has no real inclination to committing to."

"Wait. I’m pretty sure John is straight."

Mycroft tilted his head to the side and gave Greg a look that said, "Please." He gestured towards the study and watched Greg walked over to the couch. He poured their drinks. "That is an interesting theory…but I’m not sure of how long he can claim heterosexuality, when he, like you, is most likely bisexual. And then there is my brother. Sherlock is definitely smitten, even if he too is denying it. It's only a matter of time before he realizes it and once he does John might as well forget about holding onto that idea that he is strictly heterosexual."

Mycroft handed Greg his drink and he sat next to him on the couch. 

"Holmes men area just that irresistible, Hmm?"

"We are both tenacious. Our father always said nothing ventured nothing gained."

Mycroft replied and then sipped his brandy.

"Were you close to your father?" Greg asked as he leaned back into the couch making himself comfortable.

"In our own way, I suppose we were close. I was more like his protege than his son. Mummy always says I take after him and that I was going to work myself to an early grave. Sherlock and he didn't get along at all. Dad thought he was too reckless and willful. "*

"Well he is."

"True. However Sherlock doesn't think anyone should influence his behavior, he always resented the fact that our father was trying to control him."

"Is that why you too fight so much? Is it because you are like your dad?"

"Sherlock and I will probably never see eye to eye, but it's not because I'm like our father. Father cut him off after he started using cocaine, he said he wouldn't stand by and watch a son of his through his life away. I on the other hand, wouldn't ... couldn't allow it and I stepped in...Well you know this."

"But I don't understand it. I never did. You saved his life. I will never forget that phone call, you know. You sounded so broken."

"He is my baby brother and I will always fight for him."

"I'm glad you did. Even if he frustrates me to no end, I'm still glad you bullied me into allowing him to help out."

"It wasn't bullying...”

"Come off it, what were your words again, oh yeah, "Allow him to assist you or you won't like the consequences."

"It wasn't a threat, it was good advice. Giving him permission is much better than having him go behind your back and mucking up police procedure don't you think?"

Greg’s eyes widened in understanding "You manipulated him. You manipulated Sherlock blood Holmes!"

"I managed the situation. He's always needed minding. And he has always resented me for doing so. You have no idea how fortuitous it was that John has taken some of the load off."

Greg laughed and clinked his glass with Mycroft’s, "Let’s drink to John . Poor bastard."

They both took sips of their drinks. "Thank you for dinner."

"It was my pleasure."

"Maybe next time, I can cook for you?"

"You have culinary skills? I don't remember reading that in your dossier."

Greg's mouth opened and dropped in shock. Mycroft responded by chuckling, "I'm joking. What did you have in mind to prepare?"

"You are such a prat." Greg said as he gently kicked Mycroft in the side. He grabbed Greg's foot to stop his assault and began to rub it. 

"Oh god..." Greg nearly purred with pleasure. 

"Give me the other one.". Mycroft demanded and Greg quickly complied. 

"You’re good at everything, aren't you?"

"No, But when I'm capable of a skill I usually make sure I excel at it."

Greg sighed and let Mycroft’s fingers relax all of the tension He didn't know he was carrying around. Before he knew it he had fallen asleep with his feet in Mycroft’s lap. He awoke to find that somehow Mycroft had gotten a book and was reading it with one hand as he gently rubbed the top of his left foot with the other. 

"I’m sorry I didn’t mean to fall asleep. You should have woken me."

"It wasn't a bother. Are you ready to go to bed yet?"

Greg lifted his feet from Mycroft’s lap and stretched. "I suppose. Can I ask you something though?"

"Certainly" Mycroft replied as he closed the leather bound book. 

"Can I sleep with you... I mean in your bed...with you. Oh God, I'm not saying this right."

"I know what you mean and the answer is yes. Go ahead upstairs, I will meet you in a few minutes there is something I want to do before I retire for the evening."

"Oh okay."

By the time Mycroft had finished checking his email and reading the evenings final reports he trudged his way up the stairs to his bedroom. He pushed the door open and watched Greg snuggle a pillow close to his chest with one arm as he slept soundly with his mouth open. Mycroft leaned on the door frame for a moment and just watched. It was astounding that such an attractive man such as Gregory Lestrade wanted him. He had always considered himself to be fortuitous, but he had never felt truly blessed before. This chance with this man was something he hadn't even began to hope for. 

Mycroft undressed and opened a drawer to retrieve his silk pajamas. After he donned his sleep attire he slid into the bed and watched Greg sleep. He focused on the dark eyelashes fluttering. He felt the soft puffs of a gentle snore against his cheek. He smelled the wonderfully musky scent of Greg's skin. It was absolutely maddening how much he wanted to kiss him awake and ask him to rethink this plan of waiting. But he knew Greg was right. They could date, they could kiss, but if they made love when Greg was still married Greg wouldn’t ever forgive himself. Gregory was a man of principle, he wouldn't violate his vows and Mycroft really didn't want to tempt him to. The problem was that he didn't know if he could resist. Most people thought he was cold and heartless and that he had an iron clad will, when in fact the exact opposite was the true. He had the great potential to love, and to love fiercely. One disastrous relationship in his youth, had taught him to never allow himself to be susceptible to that type of disappointment and pain again. But here he was, twenty plus years later and he knew he was going to risk his heart and he was having a very difficult time waiting to do so.

Greg huffed and discarded the pillow in his sleep and rolled his way closer to Mycroft’s chest. Greg embraced the auburn haired man and snuggled him instead of the pillow. The detective inspectors smile was damn near angelic. 

Mycroft closed his eyes and let out a satisfied sigh. Greg's warmth across his chest was more than pleasant. He kissed the silver haired mans forehead and allowed himself to be lulled to sleep.

He awoke later than he usually did and saw that Greg was sitting on the side of the bed with cups of tea. "I know it's not coffee but that contraption you call a coffee machine, is frightening. Tea seemed a safer option."

Mycroft accepted the morning blend and took a cautious sip. "How’d you know how I take it?"

"You aren't the only one who is observant you know?"Greg shrugged and the took a sip of his own tea. "I was going to make breakfast but I wasn't sure you'd have time."

Mycroft looked at Greg’s watch and frowned. "No not really. I usually don't sleep in"

Greg smoothed a wayward hair from Mycroft’s forehead. "You looked so peaceful and to be honest I think you probably need more sleep. I imagine your job, whatever that is, doesn't allow you as much as you need."

Mycroft drank deeply from his cup, "I can sleep when I'm dead." He put aside the tea cup gave Greg a quick kiss, "I really need to dash, you aren't scheduled to go in today are you? What are your plans?"

"Meeting with the divorce barrister and then probably commandeering your cable and couch."

Mycroft got up from the bed and stretched. "There are salt and vinegar crisps in the pantry. Right next to your lager."

"You bought them for me? Somehow I don’t picture you in Tesco."

"I had them and some of your other favorite foods added to my grocery list. My shopper bought them."

“You have a personal shopper? Why am I not surprised?”

“Because I’m extremely busy, you may see some of the household staff today.” Mycroft said as he made his way to the ensuite bathroom. Greg picked up the tea cups and saucers and made his way down to the kitchen. After he cleaned and put them away. He puttered his way to the lounge and turned on the telly.

Eventually Mycroft came down stairs in his three piece uniform and gave him a strange look, “Is this really what you plan on doing all morning?”

“I might go to the shooting range… maybe the gym, but right now yeah I’m good with vegging out right here until its time to go to see the barrister.”

“I don’t know if I should pity you or envy you.”

Greg shrugged, “Do you think you might make it home in time for dinner. I’m thinking of cooking.”

“I can’t be certain, but I will let you know if I’m going to be late.”

“Okay.” Greg said as he got up and shuffled over to Mycroft. He kissed his softly on the lips and smiled, “Have a good day. Don’t start a war.”

“You really need to stop listening to my brother. I don’t start wars.”

Greg rolled his eyes, “If you say so.”

“Have a good day as well Gregory.”

~*~

Later that day Mycroft’s work mobile rang. He scowled at it knowing it couldn't be good news. The BBC had already reported the riots in Yemen. Intelligence reports had been pouring in all day and it was worse than what the news media was reporting or possibly even knew about. The situation in Yemen wasn’t going anywhere close to plan and that put his teeth on edge. It wasn’t an oversight on his part, they had precautions set but he couldn’t have anticipated the sudden death of the Yemen president. If British interests went south it would cause a domino effect he really didn't even want to think of. They were prepared for it, there were always contingency plans, but he really didn't want to use his plan B. Plan B meant deployment of not only more soldiers but it also meant they needed more spies, and trustworthy reliable spies were hard enough to employ let alone keep. But worst of all it all meant that money was going to be spent and lost and that wasn't something he needed right now. Technically he did work for the treasury department, the days when war always equated a better economy was definitely in the past.

He sighed as he picked up the phone.

"Yes." He answered in that tone that sounded like the crushing of ice chips. He almost pitied the messenger of this message. He listened and barely withheld the growl. "That is unacceptable. Tell him to expect me, we will discuss this is person.". He pressed end and placed the phone down in front of him. He steepled his fingers and rested his chin on his thumbs. He closed his eyes and saw the political strategy laid out before him. Moving operatives from other locations would be difficult but not impossible. He pressed a button on his phone and called Anthea.

She walked in with her ever present blackberry. She looked up briefly, "You needed me?"

"Certain parties in Yemen aren’t playing nicely."

"No?". She looked down at her phone.

"I'm initiating the Perc defense."

That got her attention. "Really, it's that bad?"

"It’s potentially that bad and I'd rather us be prepared, if things turn I can easily change tactics."

She nodded, pressed a few buttons on her phone. "I've sent you the encrypted files. How long do you expect to be gone. I will need to know to book your lodging. Will you be driving or will you use a driver?"

He thought for a moment, "I'll drive. A driver might blow my cover."

"As you wish."

She walked away to make the rest of the plans that Mycroft would need for this unscheduled trip. He retrieved his personal phone and called Gregory.

"Hey... What's up? You usually don't call during the day." Greg said as he walked away from the body at his crime scene. Sherlock was giving him a strange look.

"Something requires my attention; unfortunately I may be gone for a few days."

"Oh okay. I'll miss you then." Greg said softly away from observant eyes and eavesdropping ears like Mycroft’s baby brother who was snapping his gloves off and approaching him.

"I'm sorry."

"It’s work. I understand."

"I'll miss you as well. I have to go."

"Okay, take care of yourself."

"Goodbye, Gregory."

"Yeah, bye."

Sherlock’s eyebrow had practically reached his hairline. "You are falling in love with my brother."Sherlock stated in a tone that was mixed with ire and astonishment.

"How...what?"

"You are...you didn’t even deny it. How strange."

Greg scowled at him, "Just leave it, will you?"

"I knew he was infatuated with you but I didn't think you would return his affections."

"What?...infatuated? No, I won’t ask... Just don't okay."

Sherlock stared at the detective for a moment and then said, "If my brother makes you happy then I suppose I can give you my blessing."

"I wasn't asking for it."

"You have it anyway."

"Okay I'll bite, why?"

"Why? Oh, because Mycroft has needed someone to love for a long time. Of course he loves me, but that can’t be enough. Its fraternal love and he wants and needs someone to actually share his life with."

Greg gave Sherlock a long stare, "I wouldn't expect you to understand that."

"Just because my brother and I don’t share the same needs, doesn’t mean I don’t understand them. He likes to say that caring is a disadvantage, he likes to think himself above petty human needs like love and affection. But everything he does is in direct opposition of what he says. He worries for me because he cares for me and that shouldn't be a part of who he is, but it is. Mycroft loves. He is passionate about many things, but what he feels for you... well, that’s obvious to anyone who has eyes to see it. So yes, I think you are exactly what he needs, and yes you have my blessing. Take it or leave it."

"You actually do love your brother don't you? Despite all of your complaining about him. Even though you act like you can't stand him."

"He is insufferable." Sherlock sighed.

"But you love him anyway." Greg said as he smiled brightly up at him.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes, frowned and stormed away heading towards a confused looking John Watson. 

The rest of the day was predictable. He watched Sherlock insult his team and then drag John away; he called in suspects and made one arrest. He then completed his paperwork for the day. At around seven he was thinking of getting some takeaway when he got a text from John.

Fancy going to the pub?-JW

Good timing. Just leaving the office now. Be there soon. - GL

Ok -JW

Upon entering the pub he went straight to the bar and ordered a bitter. He took the pint and spotted John in their usual spot nursing his own pint.

"Hey John."

"Hey."John replied as he sat down his glass.

"Hell of a day."

"Yup. Thanks for meeting me here. Sherlock was being... I just needed a break." John said with an exasperated expression etched on his face. 

"He can be a little much."

"Understatement of the century, mate."

"But you still hang in there."

"I can't seem to help it. It's strange he makes me so angry sometimes, but it's like I already miss him. How can I miss someone I was just with it? How can I miss him when he drives me insane?"

"He is a Holmes. That's what they do."

"Yeah... So, umm you and Mycroft? I have to admit I didn’t see that one coming."

Greg shrugged, "I guess Sherlock outed us, huh? No matter. It was bound to happen anyway once the divorce is final I mean."

"But Mycroft?" John asked in almost whine.

“What? He's attractive. Intelligent. He's hot, in that I can destroy your whole world with one press of a button kind of way and he always flirted with me but I didn't know he was serious."

"I guess but I didn't even know you were gay. Not that it matters but I just assumed you were straight since you are married."

"I'm bi. So yeah Mycroft isn't my maiden voyage so to speak."

John took a sip of his lager and looked up at the television, which was broadcasting a football game. "Oh."

"So do you want to talk about it?"

"What? No. Why?" John asked he turned away from the game to meet Greg’s eyes.

"You probably have questions."

"It’s really none of my business. I shouldn't have asked."

"You were curious and you were curious for a reason. Maybe it has to do with your own Holmes brother."

John sighed and rolled the pint glass in his hands. "I'm straight. I've never been attracted to men, but I'm self aware enough to know that something is off. My friendship with him is like no other friendship I've ever had."

"Well he is slightly insane." Greg said half-jokingly.

John chuckled, "Yes my best friend is a maniacal crime solving genius. But that's not what's different. You know what is? I was jealous of Irene Adler. Like scratch the bitch's eyes out jealous. She was a beautiful sensuous woman and I wasn't jealous of Sherlock because she was paying attention to him and not me. I was jealous because for once his eyes weren't seeking out mine. My praise wasn't enough, he wanted to impress her. He kissed her. And I was actually relieved when she ended up dead. Again."

"Oh... Well that's..."

"Fucked. That's what it is. So as a friend I have to warn you. Holmes's are dangerous and not just in the converting with terrorists and serial killers for fun or for country."

They sat in silence for awhile both drinking their respective beers and watching people socialize. Greg finally broke the silence with,

"You are in love with Sherlock." 

John just blinked and let that statement sink in before replying "And you are in love with the British Government AKA Mycroft."

"Well at least I'm bi; what’s your excuse Three Continents?"

Johns face went blank and then he bust up laughing, "I have no idea. So how does this bi thing work?"

"You are a doctor, I'm sure you can figure it out."

John shook his head, "Physically sure, but come on Greg I haven’t the slightest idea in how to woo a man. Especially a Holmes."

"I haven't the foggiest idea in how to woo a Holmes either, I was fortunate enough that mine fell for me first. Mycroft thought Sherlock would figure it out before you would. I wonder if he is going to be disappointed that he was wrong."

"Probably."

"Neither one of them handle being wrong well."

Greg chuckled, "Nope."

John got up, do you want another?"

"Yeah, you want to play darts?"

"Sounds good."

John beat the crap out of Greg at darts. The bastard was probably a crack shot with that gun of his that the detective always pretended he didn’t notice on him. But it had been fun. He stepped into the penthouse and noted the silence. He never liked being there without Mycroft. It felt odd... It felt empty. He took off his shoes and made his way upstairs, he bypassed the guest room and went straight to the master bedroom. He took of his clothes and slid into the luxury sheets. He took a pillow and pressed his face into it and inhaled. It had only been one day and he missed Mycroft terribly. How did that happen? He never had been the clingy type, but then again he had never fallen in love the way he had fallen for Mycroft. John’s words played back at him, "How can I miss him when I've just seen him?" Yeah John I get it. Damn Holmes men. They were addictive. 

His phone buzzed and he reached over to the nightstand to retrieve it.

"Lestrade"

"Did you have a pleasant evening out Gregory? How is John?"

Greg sat up and smiled, "If I didn't know you so well, that would be creepy."

"Its not my fault that I have an obsessive need to know that you are well, trust me I'd rather be there to see for myself."

"Me too. What time is it where you are?"

"Half past two."

"In the morning or afternoon?"

"Morning."

"Oh, if I was your brother I probably could tell you where you are right now."

"I know where you are."

"You have CCTV, you're cheating."

"I know specifically where you are."

"You do?" Greg asked huskily as he stoked his chest and exhaled.

"Yes...and I know what you are doing."

"Technically I haven't started yet, do you want me to stop? It is your bed."

"Don't you dare stop." Mycroft nearly growled,

"Will you join me?"

"Damn Gregory..."

"Yes, I want to hear your moan my name like that again when you are coming."

"I've never..."

"Doesn't matter. I'll talk you through it. Do you want to know what I'm doing?"

"God yes..."

"I'm naked, in your bed. Missing you. I just licked my finger and I'm circling my nipple." he closed his eyes and imagined it was Mycroft's hands touching him, licking him.

Mycroft licked his lips and imagined it was his tongue licking that chest making Greg make those sounds. 

"What do you want me to do next? What would you do to me if you could?"

"You are evil..."

"Hmm, I think that's your reputation. You didn't answer me Mr. Holmes? Will I have to punish you when you get home. Or will you be a good boy?"

"I'll be good."

"You will won't you? You never said, where are you?"

"In my rooms."

"Somewhere private?"

"Luckily."

"Are you still dressed?"

"Partially. I still have on my trousers and shirt. No jacket, waistcoat or shoes."

"Are you sitting down."

"i am now. On the edge of the bed."

"Take your shirt off. Pretend it's me doing it. I'm kissing your neck,and I'm slipping each button from it's hole. I'm sliding my hand up your chest. Pinch your nipple for me"

"Mmm," Mycroft responded.

"Now slide your hand down, remember its my hand doing this to you. Unbuckle your belt and unbutton your trousers. Drag your hand down. Keep going. Have your reached your cock yet?"

"Yes." was hissed through Mycroft's teeth.

"It's hard isn't it? You are hard for me."

"Gregory...please."

"What do you want, tell me?"

"I want to come."

"Use your thumb, slide that wetness over the head. How does that feel, My?

Mycroft moaned and bucked up, "Glorious."

"Now stroke that cock, it's me rubbing you, touching you, making you come, making you mine."

"Greg...ory, are you...are you touching, because I would, if I was there. God."

Greg wrapped his hands around his pulsating cock. "Yeah... You feel so good. Make me come , Mycroft. Oh..."

Mycroft came first, moaning and writhing on the bed. Greg hearing him come undone soon came as well, he moaned, ",My..My..My."

They breathed into the receivers on their phones.

"Wow.." Greg muttered. " You are amazing, Myc"

Mycroft panted to catch his breath, "I think I can get used to that horrible nickname in this context."

Greg chuckled, "Good, cause you made me come so hard I don't think I could manage all three syllables."

"I can see your point.". Mycroft said as he say up.

"That was fun."

"Definitely something new."

"I need to get that divorce."

"Soon."

Greg yawned. Mycroft, "It's been a long day."

"Yup." Greg said and then made a kissing noise, "There is your good night kiss."

"Technically it's morning,"

"You know what I mean, where's mine?"

"Gregory..."

"I just heard you climax, you can make one little kiss."

"Goodnight Gregory."

Greg chuckled, "Goodnight, Myc."

~*~

A week later

Mycroft was tapping his fingers on the armrest of the first class plane seat. He looked down at his hand, this was something Sherlock did when he was agitated, so the moment he recognized his behavior he stopped immediately. Suppressing a sigh, he looked out of the window. He had never been an impatient man. Never say never, he thought to himself. It would be late by the time he arrived home, but the alternative would have been to wait until the morning. That was unacceptable, he couldn't wait to see Gregory. He knew it was likely that his detective inspector would be sleep, but he'd rather share a bed with an already asleep Greg than another night at the consulate alone. 

The flight was tedious, so he entertained himself by indulging in thinking about Gregory and how he would continue their courtship. Eventually he landed at Heathrow. Bypassing customs because he had automated clearance, he strolled to his awaiting car and leaned back into the leather seats and let Anthea debrief him. 

The first thing he noticed when he walked inside his home, was evidence that he wasn't the only occupant. He felt a warmth radiate in his chest as he thought about the fact that he was coming home to someone. Someone who had missed him and looked forward to seeing him. He put his umbrella in the stand and then took off his overcoat and hung it next to Gregory's trench coat. He went upstairs to his room and was surprised not to find Greg there. So he knocked on the guesthouse door and when he didn't get a response he opened the door quietly to find that it was empty. Confused he went back downstairs and eventually found Greg in the entertainment room. Mycroft smiled fondly at what he found. There was the detective fast asleep with his feet up on the ottoman and his head had fallen back against the pillow. His hand was still clenched to the remote and he had Mycroft's dressing gown on. Mycroft looked up to see that he had fallen asleep watching what the commercial had proclaimed was a James Bond marathon.

He quietly approached the slumbering man, he leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to Greg's open mouth. Greg moaned and slowly opened his eyes. 

"Oh, hey...". Greg said as he sat up and looked down at his watch. "This is a nice surprise. I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow."

"I couldn't wait to see you." Mycroft said as he sat down next to Greg on the couch.

Greg raised an eyebrow, "Really?"

"Why are you incredulous about that?"

"You didn't used to be so expressive."

"I never had a reason to." Mycroft said as he touched Greg's leg.

"How was...well wherever you were?"

"Terrible, but it's over for now."

"It's never over though is it. I mean with jobs like ours...it's just another battle."

Mycroft leaned in and kissed Greg's lips softly, "Would you like to come to bed now?"

"Yeah" Greg replied and took Mycroft's hand and let him lead him upstairs. 

~*~

Waking up with someone in his arms was something that Mycroft never had known he had been missing. As he looked down at Greg's eyelashes flutter on his cheeks, Mycroft knew that now that he knew what was possible, there was no way he would let them go.

Greg groaned as he began to wake up. He opened his eyes and noticed that he had fallen asleep on Mycroft's chest. He lifted his head and met Mycroft's grey eyes. 

"Good morning, My."

"Good morning, darling. ". Mycroft replied.

"Darling?"

"If you can call me My or Myc..."

"Greg is still on the table."

Mycroft kissed him on the forehead, "How about snookums?"

Greg mock huffed,"Really, Mycroft? I never knew your were a comedian."

"I'll have you know, I am well known for my comic proclivity."

"Now that it is funny. So what do you have planned for today?"

"Unfortunately, I have to go to the office. Depending on ...certain factors I may be free for lunch. Will you be available?"

"Hopefully, depends on what is going on I guess."

Mycroft nodded and got out of the bed'. "Do you want coffee?". He asked as he put on his spare dressing gown, since Greg was slipping on his favorite one. It was especially his favorite one now that Gregory had it on.

"Sure, I still don't know how you manage that machine."

Mycroft said, "It's a gift."

Mycroft asked Greg to retrieve the morning papers from the stoop. Greg returned with them and sat at the the breakfast table and watched Mycroft make the coffee... Which he found out was technically a latte.

Mycroft handed Greg his cup and sat down to join him. 

"This is nice. Morning coffee, Paper. No arguing about ...stupid crap."

"Indeed."

"Is this just the honeymoon stage?"

"We aren't married, so no"

"You know what I mean."

Mycroft frowned, "Are you having doubts?"

"No, it's just...I'm happy. For the first time in a long time, I look forward to coming home. I actually look forward to each day, because it means another day with you. It's amazing how we just click. I've always liked you and I was pleased when I realized you thought of me as a friend. Now, I know I'm falling in love with you and it is amazing, but I'm afraid. What if I mess this up too?"

Mycroft reached for Greg's hand and gently rubbed the detective's hand. "You won't, I will not allow you to. I've waited for a long time for this opportunity. Unlike you I'm not falling in love, I'm already in love. Unequivocally hopelessly in love. I will not dishonor you and I will not lie to you. If something upsets me I will tell you. I promise you that in regards to this relationship, I will always be honest."

Greg leaned over their joined hands and coffee mugs and kissed Mycroft softly on his lips. Mycroft closed his eyes and let himself get lost in the coffee flavored kiss. 

"That my dear detective inspector should be illegal so early in the day. You tempt me to take a day off."

"Why don't you?"

"The government never takes a day off."

"There are holidays."

Mycroft rolled his eyes, "On paper, but trust me the wheels of government never stop turning. Speaking of which I need to get ready. "

Greg stretched, "Yeah me too."

~*~

Greg appeared on the scene and stepped under the police tape. He sighed as he looked down at the victim. He took note of her ripped skirt and he squatted down to take a look at he nails. There was blood under her nails where she had scratched her assailant. She had been a fighter. He shook his head and walked over to Anderson. "Did you spot the blood under her nails?" Anderson nodded. "Good. Okay. Did she have any identification? "

Donovan approached, "Dana Roberts. 17. Her ID says she lives at 53 Drury Lane." Greg shook his head, she was only a block away from home. His phone rang and he frowned as he looked down at his mobile. 

"Sheila?"

"Can we talk?"

"I believe we are."

"I want to see you."

"I doubt that."

"Don't be difficult Greg. Come to the house. I need to see you."

"Fine. When?"

"How about tonight?"

"I'm working a case."

"When you are done, then."

"Could be late."

Sheila sighed. "Look, this is unavoidable. We have stuff to resolve."

"I'll be there as soon as I can, okay."

"Fine."

Greg stared at his phone. He looked over at Sally who was frowning. "You okay?"

Greg grimaced, "Sheila wants to talk."

"Oh... Well that's good right?"

"I'm not sure.". He shook his head, "Let's focus on this okay. Time to go to the victim’s residence."

Sally followed her boss to his car and resigned herself to the fact that she was probably going to be telling someone’s mum or dad that their little girl was gone. These were the times when she really hated this job.

~*~

Greg was sitting in his kitchen. He was looking at the coffee his wife had handed him. His day had started like this, in a kitchen drinking coffee, but it was nothing like this. That had been a beautiful start of the day with the man he loved, this was the end of the day with a woman he now was pretty sure he despised. 

"I met your new boyfriend."

Greg choked. Oh shit. 

"What?"

"Mycroft Holmes. Strange name. Stranger man. He brought me a check. A sizable check. I didn't know you could be bought Greg."

"I can't. We haven't... "

"He implied that. He said he was getting tired of waiting. He was hoping his check would motivate me to sign the divorce papers."

"Did it?"

"It is a large amount of money."

Greg laughed and Sheila gave him a strange look.

"Did he threaten you?"

"No."

"Funny, I would have expected him to kidnap you or pull the scary government man thing."

"He works for the government?"

Greg snorted, "You could say that. What is it about the people I love lying to me? He just told me he was going to be honest with me and he pulls this shit."

"Oh, no... He told me to tell you. He said he would be in meetings all day and probably wouldn't be able to talk to you."

"So you are playing messenger for my almost lover?"

"He doesn't seem to be the type of man to mess around with. He handed me a check for 100,000 pounds and asked for civility and to tell you he'd probably be too late for dinner. What would you expect me to do, Greg?"

Greg rubbed his hands on his face. "This is crazy."

"We'll I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He seems to be the posh type maybe this standard procedure in his circle."

Greg sighed, "You might be right actually."

Sheila put her empty coffee mug in the sink. "Does he make you happy, Greg?"

Greg looked up at her and cocked his head to the side. "Yeah, actually. He does."

She reached out and took his hand in hers. "Good."

"And you? Are you happy?"

Sheila looked away for a minute, but then nodded. "I'm getting there."

"Okay. Do you mind helping me pack some things?"

She took a deep breath, "Sure I can do that."

~*~

Greg dragged in the last box into the penthouse. He stared at the small pile that he left in the guest room of Mycroft's penthouse. It symbolized the end of a chapter of his life. He stared at it and wondered if he had made mistake by bringing it here. It might have been better to put it in storage, since he wasn't exactly sure if he was going to be a permanent resident in the penthouse. Of course he wanted to be, but a part of him, the very jaded part, was being skeptical. Mycroft had said he loved him of course he wanted to him to be here. Greg switched of the light and closed the door.

He padded his way to the kitchen and made himself a steak and a salad. He ate dinner alone, and eventually made his way to the entertainment room. He racked up the pool table and began a single game. 

Mycroft entered the room about thirty minutes later. He saddled up to Greg and put his hands on the detective inspector’s hips. Greg found himself leaning back into Mycroft's chest. Mycroft bent down and kissed Greg's neck. He then repositioned Greg's hold on the cue stick and positioned his hips. "That should get you a better result."

Greg could feel Mycroft's erection pressed against him and he smirked, "You think?"

"Take your shot detective inspector."

Greg eyed the cue ball and struck the billiard into the side pocket. He dropped the cue stick unto the table and turned to Mycroft. 

"Sheila called me today."

"Hmm?"

"You didn't need to pay her off."

"She was thinking of reconciliation."

Greg frowned in disappointment. "So you thought I would go back to her? How could you? I told you i have never been this happy, I've never felt this way about anyone. I can't believe you didn't trust me. That you didn't trust in us."

Mycroft pulled Greg by the waist and Greg put his hands on the taller man’s chest to regain balance. They were pressed so close to each other Greg could feel Mycroft's heartbeat against his hands. Greg searched Mycroft's blue gray eyes and found longing, "It's not that I don't trust what we have together; It's because I know how much she hurt you and I don't want her to be able to again. Ever. I love you and I must protect you. I know that it's impossible to be able to that at all times. I can't stop the potential harm that your job hands you everyday but .... Emotional harm. I will always try to my damnedest to prevent it."

"You can't do that My. Life is about living and living means taking emotional risks. Like this." Greg put his hand on the back of the auburn mans neck and pulled him into a kiss. 

When they parted Mycroft smiled, "You are spectacular."

"So are you. Guess what?" Greg said as he stroked Mycroft's chest.

"Hmm?"

"I'm divorced." Greg said in a very deep tone as he slid his hand lower and he rested it just above Mycroft's belt buckle.

"That's true." Mycroft said slowly and looked at Greg as if he was a tall glass of ice water and he was in the Sahara.

"Don't be coy. It doesn't suit you. When something you want is in front of you, you don't hesitate. Do you?"

Mycroft swiftly grabbed Greg's wrist and brought it to his lips. "Definitely not."

Epilogue

Mycroft sighed in relief as he entered the penthouse he shared with his lover of two years. He detected a wonderful scent coming from the kitchen. He followed his nose and found Greg in rolled up shirtsleeves, barefoot and wearing an apron apparently making pasta and boiling vegetables. He comes up behind him and puts his chin on Greg's shoulder. "I missed you."

Greg smiled and turned slightly to kiss him back. "Hey."

He pulled away and took the towel that was slung over his shoulder and slapped him away playfully. "You'll make me burn this."

Mycroft snorted and poured himself a nice Bordeaux that Greg had previously let it breathe. 

"You've finally learned what constitutes a decent bouquet."

"And you are still a wine snob."Greg said as he gave the pasta one last stir. He brought over the salad and tossed it.

"Yet you still love me."

"Without a doubt."

Mycroft looked down at the nice china and finally took note of the candles.

"Fine wine, china, crystal and candles ...I would guess I forgot an anniversary but I don't forget such things.". Mycroft said mostly to himself.

"Mycroft don't deduce ..."

"As you wish, I will just focus on how handsome you are then. That just might stop me from thinking about what you are up too."

Greg chuckled. "Can we just get through dinner. I know you already know."

"Just because I know what is going to happen doesn't mean I won't enjoy the experience."

Greg gave him a peck on the cheek when Mycroft handed him a glass of wine. 

They ate dinner, while Greg talked about his day and Mycroft talked about current events. When they finished, Mycroft helped Greg load the dishwasher.

He propped a hip on the counter's edge and gave Greg a raised eyebrow, "So are you going to ask me now?"

"Mycroft!"Greg whined. "It's supposed to be a surprise. That's why I didn't want to make a big production out of it. You would have sniffed that out too!"

Mycroft straightened and reached into his suit jackets inner pocket and pulled out a small box. He then said, "Well then lets do it this way then." He knelt down on one knee. 

"Gregory Lestrade, will you do me the honor of becoming my husband." Greg gasped and stared down at the platinum ring and then smiled a watery smile and then he chuckled. He reached inside his own jacket pocket and pulled out how own small box. He pulled out a similar platinum ring and got on his knee as well and offered it to Mycroft. "If you will grant me the same honor."

Mycroft took his ring and placed it on Greg's finger. Greg replicated the act. 

"I love you." Greg said after kissing his fiancé.

"Thank goodness.". Mycroft said as he toyed with the ring on his finger happily.

"Aren't you supposed to say you love me too?" Greg asked.

"I think that is obvious, or why else would be on my knee proposing in our kitchen?"

"Okay smarty pants, why don't you show me then. "Greg demanded as he got to his feet. He offered his hand to Mycroft who also got to his feet. He brushed off his trousers.

"I will be more than happy to." Mycroft replied with a wink and then he led them to their bedroom.

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a domesticity story and I hope it fit the challenge requirement. To be honest I felt it did so only marginally. It was hard for me to imagine these two actually being at home long enough to be domestic. I did my best, I think. 
> 
> P.S. I feel the need to apologize for not managing to write a sex scene other than the phone sex one. I'll do better next time, I promise.


End file.
